Love or Die CEO’s Daily Dose of Swoon (Cordelia and Sanderson) novel Chapter 144

Chapter 144 

The Art Collective was a haven for painters of every stripe and its influence in the art world was profound. Its power was not to be underestimated. 

That’s why when Fanny spoke, it was with a force that could crush opposition with ease. 

The other members turned their gazes toward Lorna. Among the crowd were fresh–faced graduates, with academic zeal, and those seasoned by years in the art scene, but mostly, they exuded goodwill. 

dewy 

Only one man, a somewhat known artist who went by the pen name Teagan, lifted his chin with a sneer, “Fanny’s been bustling about here, and you, a painter who’s come into fame overnight, think you’re more precious than her?” 

Cordelia’s brow furrowed at his harsh words. As she was about to retort, Lorna stopped her and replied, “Let it be. We’re all colleagues here, and we’ll need to learn from each other in the future. Helping out is no problem.” 

Lorna’s generosity stood in stark contrast to Fanny’s and Teagan’s aggressive demeanor. 

Cordelia paused, shooting Lorna a puzzled look but remained silent, following in her wake. 

Fanny led the way into a nearby meeting room, with Lorna at her side. As soon as they entered, Fanny began distributing the day’s tasks. 

The exhibition was a showcase of Superiority Country culture for international guests and would run for several days. With so much to do, Fanny delegated tasks, and one by one, the members went off to work. 

Finally, Fanny turned to Lorna, pointing to a box beside her, “Lorna, take this box to Room 103. There’s a sink there, clean those frames inside so they’re spotless for the display.” 

It was the most grueling job–physically taxing and dirty. 

Lorna’s eyebrows knitted together in frustration. She was well into her forties, and there were younger members with more energy, yet she was singled out, a clear act of targeting. 

When Fanny noticed Lorna’s hesitation, she smiled thinly, “I’m the president. Everyone follows my orders. What’s wrong, you don’t want to do it? Or are you looking down upon our humble Greenmeadow Art Collective now?” 

Lorna took a deep breath, visibly upset, but she held back, “Fine, I’ll do it.” 

She attempted to lift the heavy box and found, to her dismay, that she couldn’t. 

“It’s heavy, isn’t it?” Fanny said with a smirk. “Take care with it; those paintings are delicate.” 

She leaned forward in her chair, her expression growing menacing. “Lorna, you always scoffed at the race for recognition and reward. Well, now I’ll show you the importance of being president of the Collective. B. Aster may have praised you, and you may have had your moment of fame, but here in Greenmeadow, as long as I’m president, I can suppress you as I see fit. B. Aster has left, here, my word is law, and no one will help you!” 

Lorna turned to look at her, a deep gaze that said more than words. 

Fanny’s face twisted with malice, “Get to work, so you can report back when you’re done.” 

As Lorna bent down to try lifting the box again, Cordelia stepped beside her and effortlessly hoisted it up, “Mom, I’ll help you.” 

Seeing how easily Cordelia managed, Lorna didn’t stop her. They left Fanny’s office and made their way to Room 103 Inside, Cordelia set the box down, and Lorna asked, “Lia, are you tired?” 

Cordelia shook her head, the weight was nothing to her, but she wondered, “What’s next?” 

Lorna sighed, “Nothing much. These paintings were cleaned before they were sent over. She’s just making an excuse to give me a hard time.” 

Chupler 144 

Chapter 144 

The Art Collective was a haven for painters of every stripe and its influence in the art world was profound. Its power was not to be underestimated. 

That’s why when Fanny spoke, it was with a force that could crush opposition with ease. 

The other members turned their gazes toward Lorna. Among the crowd were fresh–faced graduates, still dewy with academic zeal, and those seasoned by years in the art scene, but mostly, they exuded goodwill. 

Only one man, a somewhat known artist who went by the pen name Teagan, lifted his chin with a sneer. “Fanny’s been bustling about here, and you, a painter who’s come into fame overnight, think you’re more precious than her?” 

Cordelia’s brow furrowed at his harsh words. As she was about to retort, Lorna stopped her and replied, “Let it be. We’re all colleagues here, and we’ll need to learn from each other in the future. Helping out is no problem.” 

Lorna’s generosity stood in stark contrast to Fanny’s and Teagan’s aggressive demeanor. 

Cordelia paused, shooting Lorna a puzzled look but remained silent, following in her wake. 

Fanny led the way into a nearby meeting room, with Lorna at her side. As soon as they entered, Fanny began. distributing the day’s tasks. 

The exhibition was a showcase of Superiority Country culture for international guests and would run for several days. With so much to do, Fanny delegated tasks, and one by one, the members went off to work. 

Finally, Fanny turned to Lomna, pointing to a box beside her, “Lorna, take this box to Room 103. There’s a sink there; clean those frames inside so they’re spotless for the display.” 

It was the most grueling job–physically taxing and dirty. 

Lorna’s eyebrows knitted together in frustration. She was well into her forties, and there were younger members with more energy, yet she was singled out, a clear act of targeting. 

When Fanny noticed Lorna’s hesitation, she smiled thinly, “I’m the president. Everyone follows my orders. What’s wrong, you don’t want to do it? Or are you looking down upon our humble Greenmeadow Art Collective now?” 

Lorna took a deep breath, visibly upset, but she held back, “Fine, I’ll do it.” 

She attempted to lift the heavy box and found, to her dismay, that she couldn’t. 

“It’s heavy, isn’t it?” Fanny said with a smirk. “Take care with it; those paintings are delicate.” 

She leaned forward in her chair, her expression growing menacing, “Lorna, you always scoffed at the race for recognition and reward. Well, now I’ll show you the importance of being president of the Collective. B. Aster may have praised you, and you may have had your moment of fame, but here in Greenmeadow, as long as I’m president, I can suppress you as I see fit. B. Aster has left; here, my word is law, and no one will help you!” 

Lorna turned to look at her, a deep gaze that said more than words. 

Fanny’s face twisted with malice, “Get to work, so you can report back when you’re done.” 

As Lorna bent down to try lifting the box again, Cordelia stepped beside her and effortlessly hoisted it up, “Mom, I’ll help you.” 

Seeing how easily Cordelia managed, Lorna didn’t stop her. They left Fanny’s office and made their way to Room 103. Inside, Cordelia set the box down, and Lorna asked, “Lia, are you tired?” 

Cordelia shook her head, the weight was nothing to her, but she wondered, “What’s next?” 

Lorna sighed, “Nothing much. These paintings were cleaned before they were sent over. She’s just making an excuse to give me a hard time.” 

12 101 

Chapter 144 

As they opened the box to take the paintings out, they planned to rotate them during the several days of the exhibition. 

After removing a few frames, Lorna suddenly gasped, “Oh no…!” 

Cordelia hurried to look and saw a long tear marring the painting Lorna held–a clean slash right through the middle. 

Lorna steadied herself, laying the painting on the table. Cordelia frowned deeply at the sight. 

It was an ancient and precious painting drawn by an artist who had passed away. 

Lorna inspected the painting closely, then relaxed, “It’s a reproduction.” 

Cordelia blinked, “Reproductions in the exhibition?”